


A Mysterious Stranger

by Johnlockery (holmespluswatson)



Series: OTP Challenge [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluffity Fluff Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmespluswatson/pseuds/Johnlockery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John only has to leave Sherlock for one moment before a mysterious stranger starts flirting with him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mysterious Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [This prompt.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/49725364535/imagine-a-mysterious-stranger-flirting-with-person)
> 
> Imagine a mysterious stranger flirting with person A of your OTP, and Person B’s reaction.

One of Sherlock and John's favourite places to get coffee was a small shop a few blocks away from Baker Street. John loved the atmosphere of it. The place was usually bustling with strange and unique people. Sherlock loved deducing the people, usually to get a quiet exclamation of praise out of John. John always made the cutest faces when he was impressed by Sherlock. 

One lazy afternoon after deciding that they had nothing better to do but to waste time at the coffee shop, Sherlock and John found themselves seated at the far end of the building, able to view everyone. 

"That woman comes here every Friday," Sherlock was saying, gesturing to a ginger seated closer to the baristas. "She brings her book that she never reads and constantly looks over to the counter. It's blatantly obvious that she wants the barista's attention. Even Anderson could figure that out. She works as a hair stylist, but she never does her own hair--her hair was done by a right-handed person and she's left-handed. Might have been raised with a male sibling, or multiple. There's more, but I wouldn't want to get boring..."

John's face practically lit up, and he said in awe, "That never ceases to amaze me, you know. Incredible!"

"I'm starting to wonder when you'll bore of my deductions," Sherlock replied with a modest smile, sipping his coffee. "It's the same thing over and over again. Hardly anything as captivating as you're making it seem."

John laughed softly and shook his head, pushing his chair out and standing. "It will always be incredible to me. Now I'll be right back. Gotta go to the restroom."

Sherlock nodded in dismissal as John left, continuing to gaze around the coffee shop curiously. 

Not thirty seconds after the restroom door had swung shut after John, the front door to the building was pulled open, and a tall (very tall) man walked inside. Sherlock eyed the new customer with intrigue, noting the long, black coat, the dark glasses perched atop his short, black hair, his long fingers, and rather strangely small nose. 

The stranger caught Sherlock staring and offered a small smile as he ordered, which caused Sherlock to quickly look away, though not for long. 

What was most curious about this man, was that there was very little Sherlock could read of him. He was a football player at one point in his life. No pets. Occupation? Unknown. Might be a smoker. Perhaps late thirties. And...that was all Sherlock could read. It was incredibly frustrating. And the most infuriating of all? He seemed vaguely familiar.

Once again, Sherlock was caught staring, and he quickly looked away, only to be slightly startled when the stranger suddenly slipped into John's seat. _John's_. 

"Sorry, I...couldn't help but notice those pretty eyes of yours watching me," the stranger said quietly, and Sherlock could detect a hint of an American accent. "Can I interest you in getting another drink for you...Sherlock?" He asked, reading the name off his coffee cup. 

"No, thank you," Sherlock mumbled, still watching the stranger closely. "You seem quite familiar. Have we met?"

"Maybe once in a dream," the stranger replied with a shy grin, and Sherlock barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes. "Sorry, I just...You look like the sort of person I would see in my dreams--gorgeous and ethereal. Perhaps _this_ is a dream."

Just then, the bathroom door was opened again, John idly wiping his damp hands on his jeans. Sherlock managed to catch his eye, nodding to the stranger with a frown, and John's expression darkened as he approached them. 

"You're barking up the wrong tree," John stated firmly, standing protectively behind Sherlock. "Why don't you get your drink and get out of here, ta. He's already taken."

The stranger's eyes widened and he quickly stood, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. "Er, I--My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to--"

Suddenly, Sherlock uttered a noise of surprise, which grabbed the attention of both John and the stranger. 

"John!" He exclaimed, looking to the stranger with a glare, now. "This is _him_. Don't you recognize him? He's the one that murdered the Farl twins. Lestrade has been looking for him for _weeks!_ " 

Immediately, the stranger--who was actually the murderer, Geoffrey Davis--fled, and immediately, John and Sherlock followed, John grabbing the detective by the hand to rush him out of his seat and continuing to hold it as they chased after Davis with bright smiles of excitement.


End file.
